


Rick Grimes: Nowhere Special

by skysonfire



Series: Andrew Lincoln [2]
Category: The Walking Dead - All Media Types
Genre: Andrew Lincoln - Freeform, Devilish Midweek Divulgence, F/M, Fanfiction, One Shot Collection, Smut with a Story, www.devilish-midweek-divulgence.tumblr.com
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 09:35:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3483293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skysonfire/pseuds/skysonfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for the Devilish Midweek Divulgence "hump day" blog (www.devilish-midweek-divulgence.tumblr.com), this is the second piece that I've written featuring Rick Grimes. Photo edits associated with this piece can be found on the Tumblr blog site. Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote>





	Rick Grimes: Nowhere Special

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Devilish Midweek Divulgence "hump day" blog (www.devilish-midweek-divulgence.tumblr.com), this is the second piece that I've written featuring Rick Grimes. Photo edits associated with this piece can be found on the Tumblr blog site. Enjoy!

There was nothing but the middle of nowhere; fields and ornery crickets and the curving dome of the heavens, filled with unaffected, twinkling stars. The Georgia sun had been merciful that day and the roof of the trailer was cool to the touch. I spread out the threadbare blanket and stretched out, feeling the press of the metal against my back. I thought that if I could quiet my mind, it would almost be like a normal night in the middle of nowhere — a road trip, a vacation, and not a temporary stop on a journey that had become the run for our lives.

We’d been running since the attack at the house. I didn’t remember how long it had been, actually. We’d lost people at the house – just like we did everywhere we stopped. The world had transformed us into a shiver of sharks – always moving, looking for food – trying to avoid being food; trying to stay alive. So here we sat, pushed out into the rural Georgia flats with a hillside at our backs and the world ahead. Where we would go next was anyone’s guess, and it didn’t really matter who made the decision because it was always wrong. The decision was always death.

I pulled out the damaged pack of clove cigarettes that I had found on our last run. What luck, I had thought, that some poor dead bastard had been carrying around cloves. I lit one up and took a long draw, still thinking about the house – still thinking about Rick’s lips on the inside of my thighs; his fingers sweeping along the cut between my legs. Thinking about his eyes on me that night still made me shake, and I shifted on the trailer’s top as the throbbing started again; relentless and suffered wanting.

Behind me, I heard the creek of trailer’s ladder. Calmly, I reached for my knife at my hip and I sat up slowly. His head crested in the moon and as soon as I saw his curls and the angle of his shoulders, I relaxed. “Just me,” he rasped, and I sheathed my knife. “May I?” He asked.

“You know you can,” I responded, taking a drag from the cigarette. He sat down close to me, our hips touching and I turned to face his pensive stare, so blue black in the night. I ran my tongue over my bottom lip, worrying it slightly with my teeth. Carefully, he took the cigarette from me and snuffed it out. “I don’t really know what to say,” he started, but I didn’t care about any of that. I placed my hand on his neck and pulled him close, my body surging with adrenaline as his lips pressured mine in just the way I wanted, his tongue sampling my mouth with such purpose that I bit down against him, taking in his sanguinary taste. The action elicited a deep hum in the back of his throat and he pushed me back onto the blanket, our hands fighting against buttons and zippers and fabric.

He wasted no time pushing himself inside and as soon as he filled me, my back arched and I gasped at his heat; my body felt like an electric storm, wild and dangerous. He rocked me more slowly than I knew he wanted and he leaned in, pushing our foreheads together. I touched my fingers to his close clipped beard. “Shhh …” he encouraged, letting me sample a smile that he gifted only to a precious few.

“Don’t worry,” I breathed as he pushed against me more intently. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”


End file.
